


Chantaje

by Kestrealbird



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Horny Boys Being Horny, M/M, Messy, Multiple Orgasms, Nyx you useless Bisexual, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Safe Sane and Consensual, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, brief hand jobs, technically anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-29 23:03:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15083663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrealbird/pseuds/Kestrealbird
Summary: He doesn't bother using his fingers, but the moment his tongue delves in and hits gold Prompto arches up, mouth open in shuddering gasps and moans. Nyx curls his tongue andthrusts.





	Chantaje

**Author's Note:**

> Covers me face
> 
> I writ this for a friend of mine and it's the first Explicit porn I've ever done I'm sorry I tried my best.

Fumbling keys jam themselves into the lock and the door opens with a flurry of hurried movement, slamming shut behind them as a body is pushed harshly against the wood. Painted glitter gleams across the expanse of Nyx’s exposed chest as manicured nails scratch up his skin and push his shirt down his shoulders so that it hangs from his elbows with an unspoken promise.

He presses himself between Prompto’s legs, hoisting them around his hips just to hear a hitch in his breathing as their groins press against each other, the friction of denim maddening to them both. They’ve hardly broken their kiss since they started feeling each other up on the third floor stairs, and it’s a messy, desperate thing, a moment of madness that has them wrapped up in the taste they share. 

They were strangers until just a few hours ago. Strangers, until they’d met each other’s eyes in the middle of an illegal street rave that had drugs in the air and left intoxication in your veins. He’d be lying if he said he’d only happened to stumble upon the thing. He’d known it was happening and actively gone with a group of friends that he’d lost in the crowds within ten seconds, though he’d definitely still been able to hear Tredd’s atrocious singing.

Nyx hadn’t planned on picking someone up, but Prompto had practically eaten him alive by gaze alone and who was Nyx to deprive anyone of such an opportunity? 

It was easy enough to get lost in the music - the glitter, the atmosphere - and the metal on Prompto’s tongue was sharp and sweet in his mouth when he sweeped the other in for an experimental kiss. The response had been almost instantaneous and now here they were, shacking up against Nyx’s door just a few blocks down from where they’d met with a hunger that left them starving.

The bitter metallic warmth on Prompto’s tongue sweeps into his mouth. It presses as far down his throat as it can get without making him choke and Nyx almost  _ wants  _ that to happen if only to test how it would feel.

He breaks away from the kiss to grab Prompto’s wrists - how many leather cuffs and chains does he have? - and pin them against the door, grinding their hips together with a stuttered moan. Prompto licks his lips, eyes locked with Nyx’s own and then he uses his apparent leg strength to bring Nyx in so they’re sharing every rise and fall of their chests and panting the very same breaths.

Nyx is not a man without his own addictions and right now Prompto is the drug he finds himself craving. Freckled skin tastes sweet against his tongue as he bites and nips at Prompto’s neck, listening as hitched breathing turns to growling pleas and half-hearted threats. He chuckles despite himself; Prompto takes exception to that and pulls his head back by his hair, making him hiss from the sudden bend in his neck, and then there’s a harsh bite being placed on his collar, pleasure and sharp stabs of pain leaving him craving more. 

The mark will bruise later, he knows, and the thought sparks a thrill in his veins. It isn’t often that one of his hookups will willingly mark him so this is pleasantly new territory. It makes Prompto unpredictable compared to the rest; Nyx finds himself just a little bit in love with that idea.

As much as he enjoys the thought of fucking against a door he much rather prefers the comfort of his bed sheets and, reluctantly, he pulls back to place distance between them, though he doesn't let go of Prompto’s wrists the whole time. It’s easy enough to lure him to bed with wandering hands and nipping teeth. Nyx lets himself get pushed down onto the mattress; lets himself be put in a more submissive position because he’s not adverse to someone else calling the shots here and Prompto looks hot as hell leaning over him with kiss swollen lips and dark hooded eyes.

Prompto divests his hoodie with practiced ease, throwing it over his shoulder so it lands somewhere in the room, and Nyx rakes his eyes appreciatively over the sleeve of tattoos on his arm catching sight of the surgical scars on Prompto’s chest, light and thin, from the corner of his eye. Nyx isn't surprised to see them. He had, after all, just grinded Prompto against the door and he’d felt a very distinct lack of a cock in the other’s jeans. He doesn't dwell on them for long - they’re hardly important in the grand scheme of a hookup - but his lack of disgust or hesitance makes Prompto pause, unsure and curious.

Well. That simply won't do for a night of passion now will it?

Nyx flips them over with a grin, leaning down to whisper filthy assurances in his ear, making sure to let his breath fan over hot skin, and this is the first time tonight that he’s seen the lad flush hot like this. Prompto wriggles underneath him, whining for friction. The noises go straight to Nyx’s groin and he picks up the pace of his movements. 

It takes little effort to undo the buckle of Prompto’s jeans and shimmy them down his legs. Skinny jeans aren't nearly as difficult to get off as they are to get on, in his experiences, which is a godforsaken blessing right now.

Prompto helps him - thank the gods - by kicking off his fur-lined boots and leaving them hanging off the bed haphazardly. They’ll probably fall off at some point, not that Nyx gives a damn. Prompto’s eyes are clearly impatient for it - demanding, almost - and if Nyx wasn't so damn hard he might have tried to drag this out but as it stands he’s just as desperate for relief, so he hooks Prompto’s legs over his shoulders and wets his dry lips just to make a show of it. 

He tastes glitter and lemon on his lips. 

He hunkers down, practically drooling at the sight of such a wet cavern in front of him. It’s been awhile since he’s done this and damn if he doesn't feel a nigh unquenchable thirst at the sight of it. Prompto growls, pushing him forward with his ankles, clearly thinking that Nyx is taking too long for his liking. 

He doesn't get distracted after that - willingly lets himself get pushed down, even.

Nyx parts the folds with his thumbs and licks a stripe up the length of it, dipping his tongue just inside of Prompto’s sex in a teasing movement, grazing his teeth against Prompto’s clit in such a way that it makes Prompto shudder and gasp a curse. He sucks there to gather the wetness that leaks like a dam and groans in appreciation of the salty taste. He was taught to be respectful of his meals after all. 

He doesn't bother using his fingers, but the moment his tongue delves in and hits gold Prompto arches up, mouth open in shuddering gasps and moans. Nyx curls his tongue and  _ thrusts _ .

The surprise of his actions is evident in the way that Prompto grounds himself by grabbing Nyx’s hair. He’d expected as much, really. Men, for all their bluster, are notoriously bad at pleasuring anything that isn't their own dick so Nyx makes a point to be at least partially decent with his mouth and he’s proud to say that not many people have felt the need to fake an orgasm for him.

Prompto tugs on his hair to make him get on with it and it isn't the cleanest oral he’s ever given - there’s teeth and tongue and a mess of fluid around his mouth - but the shudders that wrack Prompto’s frame are completely worth it, and the wetness sticking to his beard and his mouth is a salty tang that leaves him moaning, lapping and sucking for all that Prompto can give him as if it’s all he needs to live. 

The hands in his hair keep him pinned into place, heels digging into his back as if daring him to try and stop, but the mere idea of pulling back now seems like a crime so Nyx pushes his tongue just a little bit deeper, hearing a sudden cry from above him as Prompto’s head hits the pillow and his back arches, tight as a bow string.

Nyx’s cock strains against his jeans, hard and painful. He ignores the feeling in favour of drinking down the sudden spill of orgasm that fills his mouth and leaks down his fingers. He pulls back with an obscene sound, eyes dark as he licks the residue from his lips and even through the heaving breaths Prompto still looks wild for more. 

He tugs Nyx down into a harsh, violent kiss that bruises their lips and draws blood with his teeth, moaning at the taste of himself in Nyx’s mouth. Prompto’s hand slips into his jeans, nails raking up his cock with interest and Nyx sucks in a sharp breath, rutting against Prompto’s fingers with a fervent need. 

Jeans and boxers are pulled just far enough down to make the access easier and even with his shaking limbs Prompto manages to shimmy down the bed, eyes hungry and lips sinful as he takes Nyx’s exposed cock in hand and pumps it with his fist, smearing the head with his thumb for want of Nyx’s moans. 

His nails scrape lightly against Nyx’s cock, and his movements are rough and harsh, smearing as much pre-come as he can before pulling back to suck it off his fingers, blue-painted lips shining with his spit after the fact. Nyx growls, distracted by the thought of what else Prompto might do with that mouth, and gets flipped onto his back for the trouble, breath hitching as Prompto straddles his waist, leaning down to stroke his sex up Nyx’s cock, pausing with a tilt of his head once he reaches the tip.

They’re desperate and horny as shit but they aren't foolish enough to do this dry. Nyx mutters out, “second drawer down,” and it takes Prompto less than ten seconds to find a bottle of lube - unopened for once so maybe Luche has finally stopped stealing his stash - and a condom that he puts between his teeth while he hastily undoes the cap of the lube and tips it onto his hand, hardly caring about the way it drips off his skin and onto Nyx’s stomach.

The coldness of it makes him flinch but it’s better to be messy and uncoordinated then unprepared. Besides, he doubts he’ll forget the image of Prompto kneeling over him, messily scissoring himself in preparation for a good fuck, teeth clenching down on a condom wrapper, eyes lidded and breaths laboured.

“Don't forget to actually  _ use that _ . It isn’t a gag you know.” The growl Nyx gets in return goes straight through him and he only has enough time to chuckle before the wrapper is being torn open and the condom slowly, pointedly, rolled down his length. He deserves that, of course, and the pettiness of it all only makes him smile wider.

Nyx expects Prompto to lower himself down slowly, to drag it out as much as possible just to make him squirm, but that doesn't happen. Prompto takes in Nyx’s cock with such speed and thirst that it makes him throw his head back with a cry, hips jerking because god does that warmth and slick feel heavenly. 

Prompto grins, breathlessly, and says, “you better be worth the trouble.” 

He thrusts upwards, grinning when he hits a spot that makes Prompto silently cry out. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur to Nyx. They’re not coordinated in the slightest, and he’s not sure if this much pleasure is healthy, but his back is covered in scratches and Prompto is littered with bite-marks and bruises and he’s chanting Nyx’s name like a holy prayer, hearts in his eyes and drool on his chin.

Nyx flips their position part way through so he can piston his hips and hold Prompto down. He’s frantic and animalistic but Prompto eats it up like he’s been craving this for weeks and when he hits his second - third? - orgasm he lets out a silent scream, body twisting and shuddering and tears leaking from his eyes.

The pressure on Nyx’s cock is sheer insanity, and he follows shortly after, muffling himself by biting down on the juncture of Prompto’s neck, drawing blood with the force of it though neither of them really notices, and Prompto milks him for all he’s worth until they’re both sated - dizzy and swallowing huge gulps of air to keep themselves floating.

It’s with a certain amount of reluctance that Nyx pulls out, disposing the used condom in a bin near his bed as he lays down next to Prompto, limbs splayed and eyes heavy. He doesn't protest when Prompto curls into his side, seeking warmth and safety. Nyx pulls him closer; murmurs assurances into his hair, hand stroking down his back to loosen up the residual tension.

They stay like that for what feels like minutes but could really be hours, basking in the afterglow and slipping in and out of sleep. He opens his eyes, blearily, and looks at his clock. 12:45 am. Have they really been laying here for that long? 

Distracted as he is by the passage of time, Nyx almost misses the fact that Prompto is waking up proper, sitting up and stretching his arms, chains and leather bands falling down his wrists. He looks about as much of a mess as Nyx feels and it settles something like pride in his chest. There’s hand shaped bruises on Prompto’s thighs and wrists, rivulets of dried blood on his neck and bite marks over his chest. 

Cracking his neck, Prompto opens his eyes and leans down to Nyx’s level to leave a feather light kiss on his lips. 

“I’m not gonna lie,” Prompto murmurs, lips ghosting the shell of Nyx’s ear with a filthy smile, “that was by  _ far _ the best fuck I’ve ever had.” 

And then he’s standing up and getting dressed, wobbly on his feet and clearly proud of the marks left on his skin. He winks at Nyx as he opens the door, and gives one last wave before he disappears completely, leaving Nyx’s heart skipping beats in his chest like a static drum.

Prompto had crawled into his arms and his breast and his bed and blackmailed his goddamn heart into a crush that was never meant to be apart of the equation, and it’s all Nyx can do to breathe out through his nose, an arm thrown over his eyes as he tries to ignore the drug he’s been fed.

He hisses out a harsh, “ _ fuck, _ ” from between his teeth and it’s the best way he can think to summarize the whole stupid situation. He sighs, rolling over to face the other side of the bed, barely catching a piece of paper with a number scrawled in glitter on his other pillow. 

A smile curves the edges of his lips. He knows a challenge when he sees it and the smiley face underneath the number looks just a bit too sinister to be anything innocent.

It would  _ absolutely  _ be a terrible idea to seek Prompto out again. But then Nyx had never been known for quitting while he was ahead. 

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to my friend Luci for giving me smut tips. The title, Chantaje, means 'blackmail' and is the title of the song I was listening to when I started this. It's sung by Shakira and Maluma


End file.
